Chapter 3 - Handcuffs and Haute Couture
“You can’t do this! Do you know who I am?” my mother shrieked as the cold steel of the handcuffs clicked around her wrists.
The designer cashmere shawl slipped from her shoulders, pooling on the hardwood floor. The officers were completely unmoved by her wealthy indignation. Chloe backed up against the dining room table, knocking over one of the crystal wine goblets. It shattered on the floor, the red wine looking like blood on the expensive rug.
“Don’t touch me!” Chloe screamed as the second officer grabbed her arm. “I didn’t do it! It was her idea! She told me to lock the door!”
“Shut up, Chloe!” my mother snapped, dropping her elegant facade entirely. She turned her venomous glare onto me. “Marcus, stop this right now. If they arrest us, I swear to God I will cut you out of the family completely. I’ll sell this house and leave you with nothing!”
I stood motionless, watching them squirm in the extravagant clothes bought with my family's money.
“You can’t sell something you don’t own,” I said softly.
“I am the matriarch of this family!” she spat, struggling against the officer’s grip as he marched her toward the door.
May you like
I leaned in close so only she could hear me. “You’re a guest. And your invitation just expired.”
The police escorted them out into the freezing night, shoving them into the back of the squad cars in their silk dinner dresses. I locked the front door behind them, grabbed my keys, and drove straight to the hospital.
